I can’t sense warm. But I understand cold. My heart can’t beat. But I move smoothly. I can see red. I can’t see this meaning. No . I have understood all. My mouth utters. “My professor…”
It’s unknown lighthouse. A lighthouse keeper spends seeing the edge. The edge is such as border of lying and absence. Between sea and sky. Between the air and void. Star, debris, back and forth in moo
My job is making relief. It’s noon. Sun shines white. Road reflects silver sunlight. There's no way to hide. My job is blocking the light. Mellow-sweet.
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